Authors: Nicky Wells
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor
Adrenaline whooshed through my body to cause a great wave of elation, and I could have happily broken into dance if the song had permitted it. As it was, I channeled all that energy into the tune, giving it my all, singing as though my life depended on it.
Dan and I held on to each other for the entire time. The crowd seemed to love it, and their cheers rose to a soaring crescendo when the final notes of the song had faded into the stadium. Dan hugged me tight for the world to see and gave me a big, fat,
very
official kiss right there on stage. When he broke off to look at me, pride and joy and something else shone from his eyes, and the look on his face gave me goosebumps.
Unbelievably, the crowd managed to cheer even louder, and Mick, Joe and Darren came to join Dan and me in the center of the stage, clapping their hands and patting our backs. It was a truly incredible moment, and I wished it would never end.
Right on cue, the fireworks went off over the stadium and the technicians dimmed the stage lights. The crowd
ooh’
d and
aah
’d over the spectacular display and once more broke into a rousing applause when it came to an end. The stadium lights came back on, the band took their bows, shouting thank-you’s to their fans and waving goodbye. The elation, the joy, the pure delight, the excitement and the gratitude of the fans was palpable. Moreover, I could
feel
the pride, the exhilaration and the buzz among the musicians. It felt like a living thing, a physical presence with us on the stage that enveloped them—and me—in the richest reward of all, the knowledge of the love and admiration of thousands of happy fans. It was a truly potent drug, and I absorbed it greedily as I tried to burn every last sight, every feeling into my memory.
Naturally, there was the party of all parties at the hotel to celebrate the end of a highly successful tour. Celebrities and media folk, record company executives, TV and radio presenters, and other assorted industry dignitaries came by the dozens, and the hotel’s ballroom was positively teeming. The kids were sleeping in our suite, and Dan and I had quickly changed into party gear. Fresh jeans and the trademark silky-blue shirt for Dan—top buttons duly undone—and a black sequined cocktail dress from the hotel’s designer boutique for me.
“I hate these official parties,” Dan mumbled under his breath while we exited the elevators. “Everybody who’s anybody is here, and it’s impossible to relax. But I suppose it’s got to be done.”
He fixed a smile on his face, and we started circulating. Dan worked the crowd with a vengeance, shaking hands, slapping backs, air-kissing models, posing for photographs, schmoozing and networking and oozing charm every which way. I noticed Darren, Mick, and Joe doing the same. In a corner of my mind, I was simultaneously amused the band still had to endure this publicity circus and impressed with their unfailing professionalism and goodwill in going along with the charade. It lasted for an hour and a half before things subtly changed.
One by one, the hangers-on left, no doubt off to the next glitzy event; the media teams were encouraged to depart; the record company executives said their goodbyes; and little by little, the atmosphere grew more relaxed, the lighting and music changed, and the real food appeared.
“Who can live off canapés anyway?” I overheard Joe as he ushered in a phalanx of waiters bearing platters of steak and chips, burgers, fried chicken, and Chicago-style, deep-dish extra-loaded pizzas. A collective whoop of appreciation rose, and the remaining party guests, me included, gratefully turned their attention to these more substantial culinary delights. People loaded their plates with food and carefully balanced them on coffee tables or knees. For a while, the sound of animated chatter was replaced by the contented clink of cutlery.
“Who on earth planned this?” I inquired of Dan when he joined me at a table with a plate laden with steak and chips.
“Joe and Jack, I suspect.” He grinned. “We’ve got to say farewell to the good ole U.S. of A. in style, haven’t we? And we’re all hungry and exhausted. We deserve a bit of a feast, tuck in!” He cast an eye over my more modest plate and laughed. “You sure you got enough there?”
“Quite positive,” I assured him. “Besides, there’s only so much a lady can consume whilst squeezed into a tight-fitting cocktail dress.”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
I smoothed a hand along my unusually slim-looking tummy. “It’s got stays sown inside,” I explained. Dan joined his hand to mine, feeling the fabric carefully.
“My God, so it does. Well, I look forward to liberating you from those in due course.”
I giggled. It was a heady sensation, this feeling of freedom to date my rock star, to retire to our room together without questions being asked, without a sense of guilt or the fear of discovery.
“I love it when you have that faraway dreamy smile on your face,” Dan broke into my thoughts. “Penny for them?”
I shook my head. “They’re not worth a penny, trust me.” I leaned against him briefly to reassure him that all was well, then sat up again straight. “What’s next?”
Dan looked at me blankly. “How do you mean?”
I waved my hands about. “Well, after all this is over and the tour’s finished. So are we going home tomorrow, or what?” I scrunched up my forehead, trying to recall the exact travel date on our tickets. “I didn’t think we were leaving the States for another few days. So what’s next?”
Dan nudged me. “You and your ever-perceptive mind. It’s impossible to sneak a surprise on you.”
“A surprise?”
“Uh-huh.” He clammed up and focused on his food.
“Care to elaborate?”
Dan shrugged and continued eating, chewing and rolling his eyes at me in a can’t-speak-with-my-mouth-full way.
“Dan Hunter, you are the most terrible tease,” I chided him with a laugh and took his plate out of his hands. “Tell me,
now
.”
He swallowed and pretended to look contrite. “Okay. Right. Um.”
He grabbed hold of a napkin and twiddled it around in his hands. For all intents and purposes, he looked nervous.
“What is it?” I persisted, partially out of desire to know and partially to put him out of his misery.
“Well, um, you see…I took the liberty of adding a little family holiday onto the tour, just for the kids, you, and me.”
“A family holiday?” Unsure what to make of his announcement, I resorted to the old parroting technique.
“Well, yeah. We’re already this side of the ocean, I thought we might as well take in…you know, a theme park.”
“A theme park.” If in doubt, continue with the parroting.
“Yes, a theme park, down Florida way.”
I suppressed a belly laugh. “You’ve booked us into a theme park?”
Dan nodded.
“We’ve got those at home, you know.”
Spoilsport
, my inner child overrode my killjoy observation, but Dan wasn’t perturbed. He pointed a finger at me and pretended to cock a gun.
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. The ones we have are
nothing
like these. I’ve done my research.
And
the weather is better.” He pulled his imaginary trigger, blew the smoke off his finger gun, and put it away. “Got ya.”
Now I let go of the belly laugh. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just so unexpected.”
“And that’s what makes it great. So, now that I’ve let the cat out of the bag, I might as well fill you in.” He sat back and reclaimed his plate of food, speaking between bites.
“It’s a big old theme park with rides and things, but there are several
fabulous
hotels, swimming pools and animals, it’s like
everything
rolled into one. We can do things for the kids
and
adulty stuff, and everybody can have a great time. We might even get a little tan if we want to lounge by the pool.” He paused for a drink before answering my unasked question. “We’re flying out first thing, and we’ll have almost three whole days before we have to go back. And yes,” Dan grinned, “Josh will be back in school on Monday morning with the start of the new term. Don’t you worry.”
I shook my head, speechless for only a moment. “Of all the things you might have organized, this would have been the last thing I’d have guessed. You don’t have to do this stuff just for us, you know.”
Dan pretended to look hurt. “I’m
not
doing it just for you. I’m doing it for myself, because I’ve always wanted to. And—” he gave his fabulous rock star grin. “Because I can’t wait to see the look on the children’s faces when we get there. But now…” He rose to his feet and pulled me with him. “Now it’s time to dance. And then I’ll keep my promise of getting you out of that dress, woman.”
And a couple of hours later—after we had partied hard, said our farewells to the rest of the band and promised to meet up for a ‘post-mortem’ of the tour when we were all back in the UK— he certainly did.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“Wow!”
Josh’s sound of adoration was genuine, excited, and very loud. We were being driven through the gates of Dan’s chosen holiday theme park toward our hotel, and the scenery was imposing. Rides rose on either side of the well-tended, rose-lined boulevard, and a lake glinted in the sunlight under a deep blue sky. The air was balmy, and the kids seemed to enjoy the journey in this open-top limo as much as the adults.
“This is so totally awesome!” Josh enthused. “Dan, can we go on that ride over there with the waterfall? And that one over there, the space dome thing?”
Dan laughed and nodded. “Of course! We’ll try and do a little of everything while we’re here. But let’s get to the hotel first. I think your mummy would like to freshen up.”
“I certainly would,” I agreed. Whilst I was happy and exhilarated to be there, in this divine place, with my kids and Dan, I was feeling gritty and grimy after a very late night and an extremely early start. A hot shower and a nice cup of tea would work miracles in restoring myself to a more normal me.
“Oh
man
, do we have to?”
The impatience of a five-year-old was hard to ignore, and I smiled at him reassuringly.
“I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise. And maybe, just maybe, you guys might want to have a little splash in the bath, too.”
“Never.” Josh was adamant in his refusal.
Dan ruffled his hair. “Not so hasty, young man. Never turn down an opportunity until you have actually evaluated it properly.”
“What does evaluated mean?” My son pronounced the unfamiliar word carefully.
“It means, take a look and see what’s offered before you say ‘no’,” I enlightened him. Right at that moment, the driver pulled up in front of our hotel, and we all piled out of the limo.
Predictably, the children squealed in delight at the massive fountain-cum-exotic-fish-basin in the hotel’s lobby, and even Dan looked impressed with the grandeur of the real, exotic plants trailing the central columns and providing an uncanny sense of being in the jungle even whilst we were walking toward the reception desk.
“This sure is some place,” he muttered as he hooked his arm through mine. “I’m not entirely certain that three days will be nearly enough.”
We checked in and were taken to our suite on the second floor—no high-rise buildings here—which boasted spectacular views over the whole park. Despite my desperate hurry to jump in the shower, I couldn’t resist a little sit down on the balcony, and Dan joined me, proffering a glass of champagne.
“It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?” I raised a token objection even while I accepted the glass.
“It’s after lunch in the UK. Does that make it better?”
Dan had an answer at the ready and I clinked my glass to his.
“Maybe. Oh heck, definitely. Cheers.”
We smiled at each other and had a sip. I let my eyes wander, taking in the varied scenery and the many attractions.
“I do believe I spot the Eiffel Tower,” I mused in surprise, having set eyes on a structure that looked very much like the iconic landmark all the way back in Paris.
“I do believe you’re right,” Dan agreed, not sounding in the least surprised. “I think they have a little replica of some of the major European sights here.” He held up a brochure. “Look—it’s like a little bit of Europe.”
I snorted but said nothing for a while. A little bit of Europe, indeed. Yet I felt an irresistible urge to go near this replica Eiffel Tower. It was like fate was calling to me. I simply
had
to go.
“Dan?”
Dan looked at me with his liquid eyes. “Yes?”
“I know it’s a bit naff and silly, but…I feel weird.” I laughed uncertainly. “Do you think…would you mind if we checked it out? The Eiffel Tower, I mean?”
“Not silly at all,” Dan contradicted me. “And why not indeed? If we’d like to, who’s to stop us?”
And so I jumped in the shower, making great haste in my impatience to get going. The kids, meanwhile,
were
merrily splashing in the bathtub, as I had known they would—especially when it turned out that it was an Olympic-size tub with a little slide going into it.
It was after lunch by the time a fresh-faced Jones family assembled in the hotel lobby with an equally freshly scrubbed Dan Hunter, and we decided that a meal would be a good idea.
“Why don’t we check out what the European quarter has to offer, thereby killing two birds with one stone?” Dan suggested casually. Too casually, I thought, but I didn’t pay much attention. My eyes were trained on a necklace he wore. A necklace he hadn’t worn in a long time, a necklace I hadn’t
seen
in a long time, one with half a ring on it. The other half of that same ring—Dan’s erstwhile engagement ring for me—nestled in my trouser pocket.
How it came to be with me was a bit of a miracle, actually. I had found—rediscovered—the necklace whilst dusting a little while ago. It had fallen into my hands like a good omen, and I hadn’t been able to put it back into the box under the bed. Instead, I had kept it on my bedside table and when I packed for our holiday, I had swept it into my bag. What I had planned to do with it, I didn’t know.
Of course, I didn’t go on holiday to my parents’ house with the kids. We all came on tour with Dan, and the necklace had been calling to me ever since. As though directed by fate, I had meant to put it on earlier, but Emily had distracted me, and I had hastily stuffed the necklace in my jeans pocket. The fact that Dan wore his took my breath away. The implications were so powerful that I felt dizzy, but the spell was broken when my daughter’s voice permeated my consciousness.